Medieval Torture
by ImNotAPsychopath
Summary: Where Jim explores Medieval torture and Seb tries to get him to eat. Was an actual conversation with TheBustyBarmaid who I wrote this with.


"Jim, what the fuck is this?"

"Research." Jim mumbled as he stared at the book.

"So, what's all this?"

"Research."

"On the floor?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Seb walked out of the room, leaving him to it.

"Jim! You going to eat?"

"No."

"I made BBQ chicken!"

Jim pouted. "No..."

"You sure? I used the good sauce!"

"Yes..."

"Alright... But it's never as good heated up."

"I know..." Jim said mournfully.

"So come eat!"

"I can't!"

"And why not?" Seb came into the other room carrying his plate of chicken and green beans.

"I'm busy!"

"But I made BBQ chicken for you."

Jim pouted. "But I can't." He whined, bottom lip quivering.

"Why not?" Seb took a bite of his chicken.

"Because I'm working!"

"But, it's your favorite. I'm sure you work can wait ten minutes for you to eat a piece of chicken or two."

"But I can't!" Jim nearly burst into tears. "I need to finish this or everything will be ruined!"

"Ruined? What research could you be doing?" Seb tilted his head and Jim held up a book. He sighed. "Why are you studying medieval torture devices?"

"I need more ways to extract information." Jim returned his attention to the book.

"Are you on some sort of timetable or something?"

"What?" Jim looked up again.

"Um, are you on a schedule? Is that why you can't stop to eat?"

"Not really." Jim shrugged.

"Then eat! It's getting cold." He took a bite.

Jim whimpered and glanced at the books before shaking his head. "No."

Seb was getting really concerned. "Why not?"

"I have to do this!"

"In the next five minutes?"

"No . . ." Jim mumbled.

"Then can you please eat?"

"No . . ."

Seb sighs. "Why not, Kitten?"

"Because I need to do this!"

"It can't wait so I can be sure that you have enough calories to keep going?"

"I have enough . . ." He mumbled.

"You could do with more."

"No . . ."

"I disagree."

"I disagree with your disagreement." Jim sniffed. Seb sighed and walked over to Jim and shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth. Jim choked for a second before swallowing. "You could have killed me!"

"Nothing else has so far. I don't think chicken would finally do you in."

"It might!"

"It wouldn't dare."

"And why not?!"

"You're Jim Moriarty."

"True." Jim smirked.

Seb smiled and shook his head. "Now will you eat?"

Jim paused. " . . . Yeah . . ."

"Thank you." Seb walked back into the kitchen and Jim followed. Seb got a plate of the chicken and green beans before placing it in front of Jim.

Jim wrinkled his nose. "No green beans."

Seb took one and ate it. "Then eat the chicken."

Jim beamed. "Okay." He leaned over and scarfed the chicken down hungrily. Seb rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. "What?"

"It took my five minutes to get you to eat and now you're scarfing the food down your throat. It's frustrating."

"Sorry." Jim pouted.

"I got you to eat. That's the main thing. I knew you were hungry."

Jim sighed. "But I wasn't . . ." Seb gave him a look and Jim sighed. "Fine." Seb smiled and went back to his own food. Jim snorted before finishing off his chicken.

"Better?"

"Yes." Jim hummed.

"Good, you can go back to whatever you were doing, you know."

"Come with me."

"Okay? Let me put up the chicken first."

"Okay." Jim hummed. He did and headed back to the other room before Jim handed him a book.

"What's this?"

"Medieval torture research."

"Is that what's all over the floor?"

"Mhm."

He looked at the book for a moment. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Read it then exact it out."

He just looked at the shorter man. "You want me to do what now?"

"Read them. Then do them."

"With other people? You're being vague here."

Jim rolled his eyes. "No, with me." He snapped. "Yes, other people. It's medieval _torture_."

Seb huffed. "Why are you starting this now? The other ways work just as well."

"Because I'm bored with the other ways."

"Alright." Seb sighed.

"So you're going to do it?"

"I guess. Just trying to figure out some schematics."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Okay . . . Well stop that and get to work."

"That's what I'm doing."

"Doesn't look like it." Jim sniffed. Seb sighed and turned the page. "That's better." Jim hummed before standing to go to the kitchen. Seb rolled his eyes, turning back to the book but keeping an eye out for Jim. A bit of rustling sounded before Jim appeared with a bag of chips. Seb shook his head and returned his focus to the book in his hand. "What? It's substance!"

"My chicken was better than that!"

"I know!"

"Then why didn't you eat more chicken?"

"It's gone."

"You ate it all!?"

"Mhm." Jim nodded. Seb huffed, exasperated. "What?"

"Nothing of importance." Seb looked back to the somewhat interesting book in his hand.

"What?"

"Nothing you haven't already heard."

"What?" Jim whined.

"Just the fact that you ignore your stomach and don't eat for the longest time. Then once I finally shove something down your throat, you eat like a starving man."

"So?" Jim asked defensively.

Seb shrugged. "It's not healthy."

"I'm still alive!"

"By some miracle."

Jim glared at him before snorting and turning around. "Whatever. Just get your work done." Seb just hummed. "And make sure I hear screams from two blocks away."

"Alright, Boss."

"And don't come back until I hear the screams."

"Sure."

Seb had a lot of fun with his next assignment, making them scream with the techniques of the Dark Ages.


End file.
